


Agents of the Darkside (REWRITTEN AND EXPANDED)

by englishrose2011



Series: New updated Tales of the Agents of the Darkside. [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Attempted Sexual Assault, Dragon Leonard Snart, Dragon Mick Rory, Dragons, Forced Prostitution, Hurt Leonard Snart, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Vampire Phil Coulson, Violence, Werewolf Clint Barton, historical violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-26 14:58:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15665544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/englishrose2011/pseuds/englishrose2011
Summary: Senior Agent and Elite handler Phil Coulson was recruited into SHIELD to help in the fight back against the things that went bump in the night, in the process he became an elite handler with a prize asset in the shape of Clint Barton (Hawkeye). But with the addition of inhumans, meta humans he decides to increase his elite pool of agents. A search which brings him to Central City and the future Agent of the Darkside.





	1. Frontier of the Roman Empire

**Author's Note:**

> This story had been rewritten and expanded with new scenes added.  
> I would like to thank my beta reader M Daniels for all her hard work, all faults are mine.

 

To every story there is a beginning and for one future Senior Agent of SHIELD and Elite handler it started back in 9AD.

 

German Territory

Teutoburg Forest 

The legion had entered the forest. Due to the narrow muddle track they were unable to travel in battle formation. Instead they had to string out along its length with groups of camp followers breaking up the line of troops.

 

Tribune Marcus Carlius was worried because the Barbarians had been stalking them from the moment they entered the forest, and in his mind, it was only a matter of time before they attacked.

 

At 49 he was a veteran of many battles and he had already made plans for his retirement from the legion. A small farm near Rome with slaves to work his fields and a young wife to warm his bed. He had saved his money paying into the funeral club and holding a little back to pay his way but the rest he had sent back to his brother for the farm.

 

Carlius pushed his dream to one side and concentrated on the present. The rain had started to come down in a torrent, it was hard to see through it and it was only at the first thud and a cry of pain that he knew they were under attack.

 

Because of the narrowness of the track they were unable to form the Roman Turtle, a specialist defense formation against attack from arrows and javelins. The legionnaires at the front holding their shields in front of them where as the legionnaires at the side would hold their shields to the side which was open to attack. As well his  bowmen were unable to use their bows because the bow string had become wet and slack. Holding up his heavy,  waterlogged shield Carlius lead his men forward into the first wave of Barbarians.  All round him he heard the screaming and yells of pain of battle as he slashed and stabbed at the attackers.

 

Cut off from the legionaries in front and behind him all he could do was fight his own personal battle and hope that Varus, his commander, was faring better and soon troops would be coming back down the track to help them.

 

Out of the murk and rain in front of him he saw  Legatus, Varus’s second in command, with a formation of Calvary.  He knew that the Barbarians feared the mounted soldiers but to his horror  Legatus tried to ride past him in blind panic.

 

When he tried to stop him he received a crashing blow to the side of his helmet that sent him to his knees as Legatus almost rode over him in his haste to escape. The next instant the Calvary were gone swallowed up into the murky light of the forest. Carlius was dragged back to his feet by one of his men. All he could do now was to make them pay in blood for every Roman life that they took.

 

The Barbarians melted back into the forest just as the Roman’s burst into a large clearing. He quickly ordered his men to make basic fortified camp to try and beat the oncoming night. Large fires were lit to try and repel the approaching night and with it the Barbarians. Carlius called his surviving Centurions to him. All of them showed the signs of heavy fighting, just as he did, but he could see on their faces a resigned look of men who knew they would soon die.

 

 

Rain continued through the night and in the weak morning light he started forward again with his men. Keeping the wounded in the center. The forest was quiet no legionaries from the group behind them had caught up, none of the one’s ahead had made their way back to them. He could almost believe they were the only people there.

 

0-0-0

 

When the attack came it was almost a relief. It was a brutal fight Carlius thrust and parried the swords and spears blocking with his shield. Then suddenly in front of him was a large Barbarian, the war axe came arching down and he just managed to block it.  The blow sent pain shooting through his left arm and into his shoulder. The man brought the axe down on his shield again and again the force battering him to his knees.

 

One of his men crashed into the Barbarian sending him staggering sideways so that the axe blow that would have severed his head just tore the shield from him. The enemy was now overwhelming them. Pain seared through his left arm as he was slashed and he just managed to avoid the sword thrust from another Barbarian aimed at his chest. Spinning round Carlius’s blade severed the man’s head from his shoulder. He moved forward to try and help two of his legionnaires fighting off four men as others started to circle round them. He moved to protect their backs.  A yell came too late. He looked down in shock as the sword stabbed through his body his mind went numb as he stumbled down onto knees, and then nothing. 

 

Carlius returned to consciousness as two of the Barbarians pissed on his face to the yells and jeers of the others. It was now dark. He was naked and chained to a pole made of a living tree, one of many in a circle of beaten and polished earth with a large fire burning in the center ringed by white stones. It’s flickering light revealed  the bloody bodies of his men. One man opposite him was screaming in agony as a large axe wielding barbarian disemboweled him. As the legionaries guts slid from his body they were  scooped up into a pot and held up to the night sky  by a blood-stained chanting  shaman as the axe man butchered the legionnaires body, throwing them into piles of bloody flesh.

 

While  Carlius was distracted by the gruesome sight the Barbarians surround him. He didn’t realize that the Shaman was now in front of him, the woman’s arms were covered in blood, and it coated her robes and splattered across her face.  When the woman  spoke Carlius was shocked to hear Latin.

 

The woman laughed “I speak your language  Roman. I was a slave  used by your kind until I found my home here when the She Spirit of the Forest came for me and made me her vessel.

 

 Your legion is gone. Your commander fell on his sword rather than face the us. We have pained the forest with their blood. The Roman legion is no more;” she grabbed Carlius head and twisted it round to see the heads and limbs of his men hammered to the trunks of the blood soaked trees. The eagle, the heart of the legion was embedded in the earth, blood had been poured over it with the guts of its legionaries draped over its wings. Varius’s severed head was at its feet resting on his dismembered body.

 

“Their Roman blood has nourished  the Forest and its spirits. But she needs more than just blood.  She needs the soul of a warrior who has proved his worth on the battlefield and through the trials of blood willingly gives up his life freely.”

 

“I will do nothing for you.” Carlius snarled at her, “So kill me now, Butcher.”  

 

The Shaman’s nails dug into his face, “You will do it willingly, Roman,” she turned and barked out an order in the tribes guttural tongue, and four leginionnairs were dragged forward, their bodies already bleeding from slash wounds. Naked they were forced down on their knees facing him. Carlius knew those men, one was the standard bearer, two from his bodyguard the other one of Varius son’s no more than a boy just old enough to wear his first toga.

 

“Unless you willingly undertake the trials of blood, these men will die now.”

 

The standard bearer, fixed his  eye on him, “Give them nothing Sir, give.” His words ended with a scream as the sword exploded through the front of his chest. He stared at the bloody blade as if not able to believe it, then screamed again as it was pulled out, in the same move the Barbarian swung it round decapitating his head. It rolled to rest in front of him, his mouth still open in the act of screaming.

 

The Barbarian  started to swing down at the boy when Carlius yelled “Stop.”  He took a breath, and nodded, “if I prove myself worthy, you will release then alive on the edge of the forest. I would have your word on it.”

 

“I will swear by the She Spirit of the Forrest, if you pass the tests he will be released free.”

 

Carlius was pulling upright, his hands released only to be pulled and lashed in front of him.

 

The men of the tribe formed a ring  within the poles creating a wall  as the women of the tribe created a circle inside of the poles carrying  switches covered in thorns.

 

“Roman you have to carry the blood stone within the circle. You must complete 10 circuits of the circle, as you run the gauntlet of the sisters of the blood.

 

Each time you fall, one of your men will die. If you are unable to get up they will all die and   your own life will be forfeit. As a failed offering your belly will be slit open and a rat will be placed inside of you and the creature will eat out your innards.  You will beg for deaths release.

 

Carlius  was given the blood stone. It took two hands to hold it and  it stank of rancid blood, A heavy stinging blow between his shoulders sent him staggering round the circle. The women beat at this body, the thorns tore at his back, buttocks  and sides as he clutched the blood stone with his bound hands. His wounds draining him, he  staggered and went into the wall of men who pushed him back hard and he went down onto his knees. The stone spilling from his fingers.  A kick to his side sent him sprawling while the men spat  bayed and jeered at him. Like this the switches found their target. One blow opened up a cut over his brow and he was nearly blinded by a gush of blood. Somehow he managed to grab the blood stone even as he heard the scream of one of his men. He hauled himself  back to his feet, and started moving forward, one step at a time, all his will power focused on moving one foot in front of each other as the men goaded the women into a  greater frenzy.

 

His world became one of pain. His blood dripping onto the ground as he  lunged and stumbled round the circle. He had lost count of the number of  circuits, only knowing that each one brought more pain. But he couldn’t stop or drop the stone.

 

Suddenly he was grabbed and throw to the ground the blood stone, covered in his own blood, was torn from his hands. He screamed in anger and frustration. His men, he had to get back to his feet but the Axman planted a heavy foot onto his gaping wound and Carlius tried to bite back a scream from the excruciating pain that shot through him and the world began to fade around him. He had failed, his men would die. He never saw the Shaman holding the blood stone up towards the moon in celebration of him completing the trail.

 

Carlius was brought back from the welcoming darkness by  the sharp cut of the knife,  the  Shaman’s knife carving into his flesh across his ribs and  thighs, The Sharman grabbed his cock and  he felt the ice-cold kiss of iron on his inner thighs and against his balls.

 

But before Carlius felt the bite of the blade a voice called out loud and clear and the shaman froze. From where he lay Carlius saw the Barbarians turn as one looking towards the forest and it was then he realized that everything had gone quiet. Walking out of the forest was a woman. She was tall and slender her head held high as if she was a goddess.  Her robes were blood red and holding her hand was a young woman her clothes mere rags.

 

The pain was making it hard to think straight but he recognized her.  She was the young woman who had been attacked by three drunken legionnaires. He had rescued her taking her to the house of one of the native chieftains. 

 

She spoke softly to the woman in red. he Barbarians were now dropping to their knees as she passed, reaching out a hand to touch her robes as she walked past. 

 

The   woman in red knelt. Her face was pale, the hand that cupped his face was ice cold the skin was smooth as marble.

 

She looked into his eyes and the  world round him seemed to stop and energy drained from his body. His limbs became heavy then with a strength that he would never had believed she pulled him up to hold him against her and then her teeth bit down into his throat and she began to drink.

 

No living Roman ever left the forest


	2. Interview with a Vampire

SHIELD – Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division.

SHIELD had always been in the shadows, it had thrived in the shadows. The conspiracy nuts called them the Men in Black and most of the alphabet agencies gave them a wide berth until they needed them. They would take the glory and SHIELD would slither back into the darkness.   
In the aftermath of WW2 when the presence of the Supernatural had become widely known SHEILD had been created to work with and combat any and all threats caused by them. 

Not alone in the field of Supernatural Investigation they sometimes clashed with the Librarian whose job was to search for supernatural artefacts and return them to the Library. An uneasy truce existed between them that was barely honored by SHIELD who conceded it more of a show of good faith then an ironclad agreement. 

Since the 1960’s, SHIELD had faced another threat due to the emergence of mutants. As a result it had started to expand its pool of agents under the authority of a handful of elite handlers, each taking about three to four outstanding assets.

Because of some of the unique people employed by SHIELD it soon became clear that the usual methods of physical fitness and psychological evaluation used for recruiting were not good enough. So SHIELD included a psychic evaluation as a way of getting to the true essence of their recruits and agents. 

Then at the turn of the new century, Meta Human’s and Inhumans appeared and again SHIELD had to take up the challenge these new superhumans posed. 

For the future Director of SHIELD it all started in the 1990’s.

Tarot card: The King of Swords

Is a symbol of intellectual power and authority, and has the courage and intellect to accomplish all that he desires. He represents judgement, command and rulership.   
1990

Thirty-year-old Agent Nick Fury took a set opposite Senior Agent Taylor, she looked more like a lawyer than the head of the psychic department of SHIELD.

She looked at the spread of cards thoughtfully, and placed one in front of him, the King of Swords, and tapped it with a finger. “Your next recruit is the King of Swords, air element, professional, powerful, strong minded, logistical.” She placed the card on the file and pushed it across the table, then added with a smile, “and a 1000-year-old vampire with more kills than days you have lived,” she paused “you’ll find a full reading on him, including a psych report here. Oh, and by the way, he was once a Librarian, so good luck”. 

Nick entered the tavern and looked round him in the gloom. No sign of the vampire. He had spent the best part of two months hunting the creature down and he was still out of luck. If it was feeding then he was feeding smart because no drained bodies where showing up. As a matter of course, he had already met with the Master Vampire of New Orleans and the woman had drawn a blank. In fact, she seemed almost nervous of having a vampire that strong in her territory. She had muttered something about an elder, and then made her excuses and left. 

Nick was sitting on a stool at the bar and was looking into his whiskey glass as if that could answer all his questions when he was suddenly conscious of someone sat at his elbow. He looked up and studied the man in the mirror. He looked to be in his forties, he was dressed in a creased suit, the tie was at half mast and the first two buttons of his shirt were opened. The newcomer signaled the bartender for a drink and gave a small smile of satisfaction when the ice-cold beverage was place in front of him; he took a long sip and gave a sigh of contentment. 

The man was pleasant looking with light brown receding hair, and Nick had had him pegged as an accountant. An accountant who was having a bad time with his client’s tax returns, if the way the man had greeted his drink had anything to go by. 

It was when the man turned that he caught a glint of silver and Nick’s blood turned cold. He knew his vampires. The old one’s could have a reflection, and hell they could eat and drink, mixing in well with their prey, but only the old one’s eyes shone silver if the light caught them right.   
“Good evening Agent Fury,” the man’s voice was softly spoken but then Nick guessed when you were the biggest predator in the city, you didn’t have to yell. People tended to listen or regret it quickly.

“Phil Judson.” 

“Coulson,” the man corrected “Judson was in another life.”

“Yeah right I heard you had been one of the Librarians.”

“The Librarian” Coulson said, “The post is now diluted by a team of so called Librarians, they even have a thief and a betrayer” There was a touch of disgust in his tone, which made Nick quickly correct what he was saying.

“My apologies, the Librarian, you collected the spear of destiny, Pandora’s Box, the….”

“You wanted to speak to me or go over my resume.” Coulson cut him off, politely but firmly.   
“SHIELD would like to recruit you.” 

“Right into a cell,” the man replied. 

“No, SHIELD has been recruiting supernaturals since the 40’s. Now we know that you served in the Marine Corp with distinction during the war, and we know you were considered one of the best Librarians to hold that post. So now SHIELD is here to ask you to join them a lot of things have been going bump in the night recently and its time we bumped back.”

“Lizzy Taylor still reading the cards for you”.

“You know her?” 

Coulson didn’t answer, just smiled with a flash of fang, “tell me about SHIELD.”


	3. The Vampire and the Werewolf

Fifteen years later

Tarot card: The Page of Wands  
Young at heart can be immature at times. Full of restless pent up energy that can make them wild and unpredictable – emphasis on wild. 

2005

Nick was now the Director of SHIELD, and Coulson was his friend, enforcer and elite handler. He was known as his good right eye, replacing the one that Nick had lost to a rather nasty magic slinger.

To most people Vampires were immortal but what people didn’t understand was the they could start to spiral downward, get lost in their own immortality. The weeks, months, years, centuries beginning to blur into one. It was Jasper Sitwell who saw the signs and set the alarm bells ringing concerning Coulson. Here was a man who prided himself on his unruffled appearance and designer suits suddenly appearing with shirts with fraying cuffs, his suit rumpled and stains on his shirt. 

Once Sitwell had red flagged Coulson, Dr Williamson had gotten involved warning that Vampires as old as Coulson could lose their mental stability as they got dragged deeper into the spiral, and recommend that he be incarcerated into the fridge, SHIELD’s own maximum-security facility before he deteriorated to such an extent he went on a blood frenzy. 

Nick waved away the concerns. He knew that Coulson would never do that, no matter how far gone his old friend was he would never lose himself in a blood frenzy. But Williamson had the ear of the Council and if the doctor made a strong enough case, they would demand that Coulson be brought in and put in the fridge and if that happened he would lose the ability to help his friend.

He had to find the one thing that would stabilize Coulson….. a mate, one that was strong enough to support him as an equal, one who matched him. But who?

For the last three weeks since he first spoke to Sitwell he had had Lizzy Taylor scribing through the files and finally she was ready. She, laid the file in front of him, placing on top of it the Page of Wands card, “of the final six, this one has the strongest possibility of being a suitable candidate.” 

Nick nodded his thanks, once she had left his office he placed the card onto the desk and opened the file. Unlike most agencies, SHIELD still used paper files as well as computerized ones. Because paper and words had a power that people had forgotten, SHIELD used that power to total effect. 

He read the name out loud, “Clinton Francis Barton,” why wasn’t he surprised. 

0-0-0

Clint Barton had joined SHIELD when a one-eyed man had made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. It was either work for them as a black op assassin for the next eight years or face death row, he had known which one to choose.

A werewolf, he enjoyed his time under fur and to his delight he found that SHIELD had the most amazing runs, acres of land which they populated with only the tastiest of prey animals. In SHIELD, he didn’t have to hide his true nature, he could revel in it. 

Coming back from his run, he had just turned back into his human form and was wiping the blood off his mouth with his towel, when he saw the vampire, Senior Agent Coulson. He swore under his breath, as he bit back the instinctive growl.

Just Coulson’s scent made his hackles rise, vampires and werewolves in the outside world hated each other. Stuck up vamps considered werewolves nothing more than educated mutts when they were feeling polite. 

The other werewolves who along with him made up a loose pack were growling some had partly transformed Senior Agent or not Coulson has invaded werewolf territory. Clint stepped in front of them even as they fanned out.

“Can I help you Sir?” Because blood sucker or not Coulson was still a senior agent.

“Specialist Barton, my office in one hour.” A clear order.

Clint was puzzled. Usually werewolves and vampires were kept apart using human or compatible species handlers but a Master Vampire? that was all kind of ways fucked up. He could see Coulson waiting, so “Yes Sir.” He acknowledged and watched the vampire leave the Were locker room, part of the designated territory along with the runs and communal areas. 

“Why did you say that,” Clarke demanded, “you could have turned that blood sucker down, SHEILD have rules they….” 

“Curiosity, Clarke and a chance to work with one of the best.” Clint said cutting him off in mid-sentence.  
“A fucking Vamp though. You should……” Clarke voice ended in a gurgle as Clint caught him and hauled him off his feet holding him up effortlessly with one clawed hand wrapped round his throat. 

“Vamp or blood sucker, Coulson is still a Senior Agent, so keep a civil tongue in his head” he closed his clawed hand a little tighter round Clarke’s throat, “because it looks like I might be working with the man, and you know what that means. He becomes mine.” 

He released the other werewolf and let him drop to the floor, Clarke landed crouched rubbing at his throat as he tried to breath. He didn’t protest because within a week of arriving Clint had carved himself a place in the pack as the Alpha wolf. 

Thoughtfully, Clint began to dress. Before he met up with Coulson, he wanted to have words with his human handler Luke Short and see what was on the handler grapevine, if anyone knew it would be Luke. 

0-0-0

Clint entered the office on the stroke of 1 o’clock, Coulson was seated behind his desk “Specialist Barton,” he acknowledged him and waved him to a seat. There was a pause and then he asked when Clint hesitated “Is there a problem Barton.” 

“Your scent, Sir.” 

Coulson looked amused “you have a problem with it?” 

“You’re a vamp Sir, and it’s putting me on edge. If this is a mission,” he glanced down at the file on Coulson’s desk, “then this is going to be a problem.” He breathed out with a huff, “can I speak plainly, Sir?” 

“Go ahead.” 

“Werewolves and vamp have been fighting for centuries, and your known as a were killer Sir. I can’t do my job if I can’t trust my handler.” 

Coulson leaned forward in his seat, “Thank you for being honest with me Barton. But we do not have a choice, this mission requires a vampire and a werewolf. As your handler you have my word of honor that I will not betray you.”

Clint knew a Master Vampire were honor bound creatures and would rather die than break their word once it was given. But the little voice was also whispering in this head that honor oaths only applied when the recipient was alive. 

He exhaled and then got smoothly to his feet picking up the file as he said, “So where do we start, Sir.” If he had to trust a vamp it might as well be Coulson. 

One mission had led to two and then more over the following months, as Vampire handler and Werewolf asset had started to work more closely together and a friendship began to grow between them. Clint also noticed that Coulson changed. To begin with he looked drawn, his shirt was stained his cuffs frayed, tie off center and pulled down. But over the months they worked together he smartened up, with crisp white shirts, black tie immaculate suites started to appear and the sick edge to his scent faded away. 

Which was why when Coulson was taken during a mission by a Hydra werewolf unit, he had wolfed out when he had found Coulson, tortured by knives dipped in Deadman’s blood and close to the true death. He had left the torture room with his handler thrown over his shoulder and all that was left of the Hydra werewolves was a bloody smear on the floor and walls after he had turned berserk. 

Once clear of the area, cradling his handler, he used one of his long claws to cut his arm, and then forced the barely lucid vampire to feed from him. Werewolf blood was richer than human blood and it was just what Coulson had needed to kick start his system and fight the dead man’s blood that was poisoning him. 

Even the rescue team had stepped back from him after he had taken a few swipes at them more to keep them back than to do serious damaged. But someone had had the forethought to send a human medical team rather than wolves, guessing correctly that he would be in protective overload. It had been touch and go for a few minutes, but the medical team talked Clint down enough to be able to take Coulson off him. 

Once onboard the Quinjet Coulson had been jacked up on the good drugs specially designed for vampires and he was pretty sure that Coulson wouldn’t remember him feeding him.

Since his arrival back at base he had been blocked from see his handler, and in the end his human handler Luke Short had suggested a night out at The Tavern to unwind. When he had refused Luke had thrown his jacket at him and told him to haul ass and that he needed a night out after that clusterfuck of a mission, and then with a grin told him he had a promotion to celebrate. 

The Tavern 

The Tavern was a favorite watering hole of the supernatural element of SHIELD. It was neutral territory so anyone could drink there without having to worry about a fight breaking out. It didn’t mean that emotions didn’t run high sometimes, but overall, it made for a good night out. 

Draining this beer and chatting with Luke he was surprised when Jasper Sitwell sat down heavily in a chair at his table and dropped a thick file in front of him. “Barton, you need to read that.” 

“A mission? now? “Clint didn’t bother to try and hide his surprise, “Coulson’s still laid up in medical Sitwell I only work with him.” 

“Read it” Sitwell pushed the file closer to him.

“Well thank you kindly Agent Sitwell. But no thanks, My handlers down so I am benched until he’s back on his feet.” Clint drawled pushing the file back at him. 

“Read the damn file Francis, if you want to keep Coulson out of the fridge.” 

Leaning forward in his chair, Clint began to read, quickly tuning out the other people around him, he couldn’t believe what he was reading because the more he read, the clearer it became that Coulson had been carefully directing his career, since before they had started to work together, like a puppet master. It was then he read the last page of the file, after a long minute he closed it.

Putting the file down, Clint reached for his beer bottle only to find it empty. For the moment he just turned the bottle over in his hand, picking at the paper label, then with a deep sigh he stood up. He patted his handler’s shoulder and headed to the bar, when Luke started to get up, Sitwell hand clamped down on his wrist holding him down. 

Normally that move would have had Clint breathing down Sitwell’s neck senior agent or not, no one touched his handler. But this time Clint’s eyes were fixed on one person and one person only Phil Coulson, the vampire was sat at the bar.

Sitting down on the stool next to him, Clint decided to go for obnoxious and openly scented him. He was surprised to find a surge of contentment sweep over him, even as his nose wrinkled at the sour sickly scent clinging to the vampire.

“Scenting me, mutt?” Coulson said taking a sip of his drink, not turning his head just watching him in the bar mirror. 

“Yeah, Boss,” and this time with a smirk Clint leaned in closer. In the bar mirror he could see other people getting the hell out of the way in case this turned violent. Normally if a vampire called a werewolf a mutt it meant the vampire in question usually got answered with a whirlwind of claws and teeth. But this was different this was Coulson.  
Clint couldn’t help growling as he smelt the Hydra werewolves scent on his handler’s clothes. It sparked a possessive surge in him, and he knew then he would fight to the death anyone who tried to take Coulson away from him. 

The Tavern suddenly went silent, and it was then Clint saw the reason why reflected in the mirror. He turned in his seat as Security Chief Morrison and his team approached the bar. 

Morrison was respectful when he spoke to Coulson but the fact that he and this team were decked out in anti-vampire armor spoke volumes. “Agent Coulson, Dr Williamson would like you to return to medical now, Sir.” 

Everyone in the bar started as the glass in Coulson’s hand suddenly exploded into glass shards as he crushed it. The security guard’s guns snapped up but Morrison waved them down, his eyes never leaving Coulson. “Sir you have to come with us now.” 

Resigned Coulson brushed the broken glass from his hands, gave a nod to Clint and started towards them Clint saw the slump in the shoulders and something snapped inside of him as suddenly he knew what was going to happen. There would be a containment cell and drugs to keep Coulson subdued while he lost his mind and his body finally closed down. 

And this would be all his fault, vampires and werewolves hated each other normally so how was he to know that giving Coulson his blood to save his life had doomed his handler. Coulson would have to regularly feed from him for the rest of his existence otherwise he would have succumbed to the Deadman’s blood that would cause him to rot away from the insides. 

A blood bond was needed. Clint lowered his head and closed his eyes until the only thing he could hear was Coulson’s footsteps. All he could smell was his scent. When he lifted his head he saw only red and his emotions sent him straight into the change. He could hear people yelling, chairs being pushed back as his body stretched. Bones broke and joints dislocated, his body arching backwards, his face distorting. Long claws erupting from his hands, fangs pushing down from his jaw. He roared and in two effortless bounds was across the floor looming up behind Coulson even as the vampire spun round. 

Coulson’s eyes widened in shock but he held his ground prepared for Clint’s rage and frustration. But Clint reached out his clawed hand to wrap round Coulson’s waist and pulling him close. The werewolf looked deep into his eyes and Coulson saw a need and hunger that mirrored his own. Clint nuzzled his hair and neck making deep growling noises nipping gently at his skin with teeth that could tear his throat out. Slowly he raised a hand and dug his fingers in to the thick fur covering Clint’s neck and got a warm growl of pleasure and was pulled even closer. 

Coulson could scent the werewolf’s blood pulsing soft, sweet and hot. He spoke carefully round his elongated fangs that had descended to fill his mouth as Clint’s hands moved up and down his body, “are you sure?” 

Clint’s arm drew tight around him almost crushing him as he was pulled close to the delicious nectar he sought as Clint bared his throat, as he bit down. The werewolf threw back his head howling causing the mirror, bottles, glasses and windows to shatter. 

As he pulled back blood staining his mouth. Clint bit down on his shoulder, the sharp teeth cutting through his suit and shirt and into his cold flesh. Coulson felt his knees begin to buckle only the firm hold of his werewolf mate held him upright. 

The bond between them was now sealed.

Only now did Clint change back to his human form, “Coulson,” he acknowledged his mate and then walked over and hit Sitwell, sending the man flying backwards in chair and crashing down flat on his back. 

“That’s for setting me up. Next time you do that I’ll take your throat out.” He promised.

“How did you know?” Sitwell got shakily to his feet, one hand cupping his jaw.

“Coulson would never have worn those clothes. I made sure that he had a second fresh set for when he left medical. You wanted to press the right buttons to make sure I bonded. You know the funny thing Sitwell, you didn’t have to do that, I would have bonded him anyway.


	4. To court a dragon

Central City 

1996

Iron Heights Prison

The doors of the prison closed behind Mick Rory, he had just finished his first stretch as an adult after aging out in Juvie.  A cold chill went through him as the freezing rain began to run down the back of his neck. Mick tugged his collar up and thrust his hands in his pockets for warmth.  While counting down the days to his release he had been doing some serious thinking of what to do next. Going straight had never entered his head, after all who was going to employ a known arsonist and pyromaniac?  He had been offered the chance to join some of the families as a foot soldier but he had turned them down. He was going to make his own way and for that he needed a certain hybrid Ice dragon.

 

But finding him wasn’t going to be easy. Leonard Snart hadn’t exactly been a blabber mouth about himself. All he knew was that Snart had a bastard of a father who had thrown him under the bus when he was on a job and that he had a younger sister who he adored, and that he was the cleverest person he knew.

 

Snart had one of the worst Central City slum accents he had heard, so the odds were that he would be territorial and would stay in the City boundaries. As much as he wanted to get Snart straightway he made himself take a breath. He had to have something to offer him, and in true dragon style that had to be a nest.

 

Over the next few weeks he had lived in fly blown dumps to save money as he worked as a thug for hire the work nothing more than means to an end.   

 

Finally he had enough month to rent a small apartment in the Supernatural ghetto, in a apartment block run by an elderly ghoul who didn’t care what you did as long as it didn’t bring the pigs to his door.  It then took him another week to clean it, buy and steal everything that he needed to make his nest habitable.

 

Tracking Snart down had been hard but finally he must have rattled the right cage because he got some leads and one of them sent him to the most rundown part of the city. It was 2.00 am in the morning but the street was still buzzing with music booming from the clubs and bars. He stepped over a drunk and headed towards the most promising of the bars.

 

It was then he heard the fight in the alleyway. As he got level with it he recognized one of the voices. There was no mistaking that Central City slum drawl. Through the gloom he was in time to see Len Snart bring his elbow into the face of one of the men trying to pin him to the wall and getting a fist to the face in return that snapped his head back hard so it thudded against the wall his knees buckling as he was stunned by the impact.

 

One of the men caught Len by the front of his shirt and pulled him up. Len spat in his face and got a punch to the stomach.

 

“Fuck you Snart,” the man growled “we were going to make it good for you, but you had to smart mouth off at us. “Hold him,” the man clawed at the snap on Len’s jeans, “now we are going to make you scream,” at that Len began to struggle violently.

 

One of the men swore  clutching his bleeding hand to his chest, “the bastard bit me,” he said as he backhanded Snart hard across the face, only for the younger man to turn back and spit in his face.

 

Mick didn’t even remember moving. Suddenly his  claws burst through his fingertips the fangs dropping into place  as he changed into his half dragon form. All there was then was screaming, the stench of burning flesh  and then he was facing his friend over the disembowel charred bodies of his attackers.

 

 

 

He reached out a bloody clawed hand and cupped the back of Len’s head drawling him close, trilling softly to reassure  him, as  he gathered Snart against his side, he led him away from the carnage.

 

Because he was a fire dragon people would look at his muscles in his human form, see him looking into the flame of his lighter a little too long and would start deducting points off his IQ. More fool them. He was willing to let them think that it always paid to be underestimated.  But he knew his limitations Len, Mick knew would lead because it was his nature and the guy was a brilliant planner and a logistical marvel. He saw his job in the partnership as protecting Len’s back as his enforcer.

 

Mick shepherded Len into the small apartment locking the door behind them and got his first good look at him. For the moment he tried to look past the injures from the fight because what he saw brought a low growl of anger from him, and Len didn’t need that now. Len was pale and had lost weight he couldn’t afford to lose and he could see faint tremors running through him.

 

Crossing to the refrigerator, Mick opened it and brought out a raw steak. Tossing it into the pan, he breathed fire over it, cooking it in seconds. For a  dragon providing food for its mate  was an intimate act, a courting ritual. He turned the steak out onto a plate and placed it in front of Len waiting to see if he would accept it. 

 

Len had looked at the food then up at him, his face shut off and Mick realized that his friend was waiting for him to name his price. Mentally he cursed the fact that Len’s mother had died before she could teach him the ways of dragons. His own family might have had problems but both his Ma and Pa had taught him the old ways. Rather than explain he just said.

 

“It’s for you Lenny, no price, eat,” then he turned his back and began to make some coffee. It was a calculated risk based on their previous friendship in juvie that Len wouldn’t attack him. Not many people would willingly turn their backs on Leonard Snart, well not twice. Mick gave a mental sigh of relief when he heard Len began to tear into the steak.

 

 

Letting some of the tension leave him he turned back with the coffee mugs, placing them on the small table. He fished another steak from the fridge, without hesitation, it didn’t matter that it had been earmarked for his breakfast, he could always get another. Len was here now and the food would keep him here while they talked. Cooking it quickly he slapped in down on the plate and sat back down to finish his coffee watching as Len almost inhaled it, finally licking the watered-down blood off his fingers after he polished off it off.

 

“Long time Len.”

 

“Mick,” he paused and there was that patent Snart smirk “you just get out, or did you bust out?” 

 

As he heard him speak, Mick’s stomach sank there was that broad drawl which he remembered so well and which he had learned to be weary of. It along with the smart mouthed remarks and the terrible puns were the public mask of Leonard Snart. He had been relegated to an outsider.

 

Len was very intelligent, he had an uncanny ability to time things in his head down to the last second, no one could plan like Len Snart. His plans were fucking works of art and for all their smarts the wardens at Juvie never got wise to any of their heists or scams.

 

But there was a flip side to every coin, and in Len it was the fact that his father had beaten and abused him so badly that he was a walking minefield of distrust, violent triggers, damaged nearly to the point of destruction. But Len was strong and had survived and Mick had vowed by his dragon dynasty to protect him and never leave his side. But it didn’t mean that it was going to be easy.

 

Mick brought himself back to the present when he realized that Len was waiting for a reply, and he didn’t miss the sharp talons that had slide out from his fingertips.  “Just got out, thought we might make good on some of your plans.”

 

Len looked thoughtful, “I have to work some jobs for the old man,” then his voice grew hard “if I do them he leaves Lisa alone, otherwise he’ll call the pigs on me.”

 

Mick took another sip of his coffee. He knew the story Lewis Snart was a dirty cop who still had connections with his old work colleagues. So, he decided to move Len onto safer ground “How’s she doing? Lisa, I mean.”

 

 The change in Len was instant, one thing Mick had learned in Juvie was the Len was always happy to talk about his younger sister, “She’s doing well at school straight A’s, and her skating coach says that in another couple of years she could get a shot at the Olympics,” he could hear the pride in Len’s voice.

 

“That’s good to hear.” Mick said as he filled his friend’s mug with more coffee studying him all the time. It looked like all the money that his father didn’t take off him Len was giving to Lisa and he was making up the slack by selling himself on the street. Well, that was going to stop now. Tomorrow he was going to get Len tested although with his Dragon DNA the odds were very remote that he could catch anything. Then he was going to move the brother and sister into his apartment, as run down as it was, and if Lewis Snart came looking the man was going to be BBQ. 

 

The third steak was shared and by then Len was drowsy with the food. Mick moved round the table his mind made up. He could see Len start to tense up, his talon claws scratching into the table and he could feel the temperature in the apartment start to dip.

 

“It’s just me Lenny,” he paused, and held out his hand, “you need to get some shut eye, remember in juvie, when the pigs took our blankets?”

 

Snart nodded slowly, “Mick,”

 

“Yeah, it’s just me remember” Reaching out he drew Len to his feet and helped him into the bedroom. Tomorrow would be time enough to check his injuries Mick would just have to trust his dragon healing ability to take care of everything else.

 

Once he got him sat on the bed he knelt and tugged off the younger man’s combat boots and jacket. Before moving round to the other side of the bed and toeing off this own boots and dropping his jacket on the chair. Not appearing to pay any attention to Len, Mick laid down stretching out.

 

The next move was up to Len. Seconds seemed like minutes until finally Len with a shudder, laid down on the bed next to him keeping a clear distance between them. He heard Snart mutter under his breath and then he closed the distance between them. Mick opened his arms as with only a slight hesitation Len moved into them just like he had done in Juvie.

 

Mick remembered back in Juvie no matter what the pigs there through he never had sex with Len. The kids knew better than to ask after Len had frozen one of them in his cell giving him frostbite.  But for all that Mick knew that Len was his mate. He would court him even though he knew they might never physically mate, Len was too damaged for that. But it didn’t matter. They would be mated with a connection of fire and ice and that for a dragon was more intense then sex.

 

Treating his trust as the precious gift it was, Mick settled them both down, gently rubbing his hand over Len’s back so that he slipped into sleep. The tension that had been running through Mick was finally easing now he had found Len he was content.

 

The next morning Mick woke shivering to see Len perched on the footboard at the bottom of the bed. There was frost coating the chair and the blankets he suppressed a shudder.

 

Len now had ice blue and white scales along his jaw and down his throat his badly mutilated hacked wings flared out behind him and blue white light pulsed through his scaled talon fingers, tremors running through him.  Mick slowly sat up, swinging his legs off the bed slowly, “you okay, buddy.”

 

Len didn’t reply, just cocked his head to one side.

 

 “O…kay…. I am making breakfast, want some?”

 

Len gave a huff of cold air and followed him slowly out of the bedroom. Mick was all too aware that it was rare for the younger man to lose control of his powers. Lewis had beaten that control into him, but even so this display was only minor, considering Len had mastered the art of absolute zero while he was in juvie.

 

While he was cooking breakfast, Len straddled one of the chairs backward resting his forearms on the back. His wings drooping downward, boney mutalations with torn blue white membranes caused by his father trying to remove the stigma of having a dragon son.  Turning the sausages in the pan he asked “your old man knows about the…”

 

“Fuck, yeah. His old friends have been fucking me since they started to take an interest in Lisa couldn’t let them do that so sucked a few of them off let them fuck me. They like young meat,” breaking off, he pushed up his sleeve and showed off the track lines on his arm.

 

“You don’t do drugs Lenny.” Mick said forcefully, he knew Lens mother had been driven to drink and drugs by his father. Len would never touch them.

 

“His friends don’t want to get their cocks frozen off,” his laugh was off center “so they pump me full of Kg97, suppresses the ice, got to let the ice out.”

 

“Yeah buddy got to let the ice out.” Mick said thoughtfully as he looked round the room, before serving up sausages and put a place in front of his partner.


	5. The Present ... To recruit a Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coulson has his hands full when he tries to recruit Snart and Rory.

SHIELD

The Present 

Tarot Cards: The Happy Squirrel and the Tower.

The increase in Meta Humans and Inhuman had led to a push to increase the number of agents. Director Fury was surprised when Coulson had requested to increase his prime assets by a further two; the man was known to be very picky.

Lizzy Taylor had again produced her files, only two this time, which had caused Coulson to raise an eyebrow at her as he saw the tarot cards. 

The first file and card were the Happy Squirrel. Darkness disguised as light. Someone who is more than meets the eye. You have to look beneath the surface to see the madness that dwelt in the depths. The arsonists card. On the file beside it was the Tower. Because of previous traumas they behave in a way that rocks the foundations and shakes up the status quo. They cause altercations and drama. 

Phil settled down to read their files and access any other data that SHIELD had on the two men via the Central City Police Department. 

Snart was classified as a hybrid Ice Dragon in the police reports and Mick Rory was a Fire Breathing Dragon which was very unfortunate when linked with his pyromania.

The files made very interesting reading Snart’s ability to head a crew when he was in his early twenties was impressive. The man was ruthless, violent with a cold emotionless persona. Coulson dismissed the psychiatrist’s findings by no stretch of the imagination was Snart a picture of good mental health stability, but he was what SHIELD needed. He fitted in well with his hot-tempered pyromaniac partner Mick Rory who had taken on the role of enforcer for Snart and had been watching his back ever since he got jumped in Juvie.

Looking at their arrests, Phil Coulson could see a clear pattern, when it happened in the early days it was usually when Snart and Rory were working as part of another crew. 

These crews were usually lead by Lewis Edward Snart, father of Leonard and Lisa Snart. The man was bad news all round and seemed to try and leech off his son with one hand while throwing him under the bus with the other. A footnote on Snart’s file said that Lewis had gone down for a long stretch and it didn’t take much to see that since then Snart had become an almost unstoppable force with Rory at his side. 

But they had parted company and Mick Rory had dropped out of sight after he had been badly burned during a heist gone wrong. The word on the street was that one of the crew had panicked and detonated a fire bomb early and the warehouse had gone up like a tinder box. 

The last verified sighting of the two of them together had been when Snart had flagged down an ambulance, loaded his partner on board and then disappeared into the night. 

Five days later Rory had vanished from the local burns unit, where he had been recovering in his full dragon form.

Tracking them down wasn’t going to be easy with Rory in the wind. He decided to concentrate on Leonard Snart, who was territorial having been born and bred in Central City, were as Rory was more nomadic in nature. 

Snart was known to recruit a crew local from Central City or Keystone; he pulled off his heists with surgical position, paid them off and moved on in a six-month arc of the Gem cities. 

If a member of his crew went off script, then Snart took them out with a cold-blooded ruthlessness that Coulson could appreciate. If he could capture Snart then he would be able to flush out Rory if he put Snart on show.

The Black Hat Hackers of SHIELD had managed to get a few possible hits on Rory, but nothing cast iron, Phil still felt the key to the recruitment was in getting Snart first. 

 

Mick Rory was considered by the CCPD to be a loose cannon, a crazy pyromaniac, who was good enough only to be the muscle for Snart, a dumb thug. But Phil read the file differently. The fact the police only suspected Rory of several arson attacks and the sophisticated accelerants used, confirmed his view that Rory’s intelligence was vastly underestimated by the police. But the pyromania still made him unpredictable. 

Finally, he closed the file and then took a sip of his tea from a mug marked Vampires do it hanging upside down, a present from his willful werewolf partner.

Handling two assets like Snart and Rory would not easy, but they would be worth the trouble.

But as the weeks went by trying to locate Snart in Central City had proved difficult.

The hackers had been running facial recognition software for any sign of him, but so far had failed to locate him. In the end he had turned to Clint Barton to tap into his old mercenary contacts to try and locate the man. Considering Clint’s part this was not something that he did lightly, not wanting to stir up some of the ground feeds that might want to take Clint down some of them had long memories. 

0-0-0

Three weeks later

Clint came into his handler’s office, waiting for him to acknowledge him.

“Okay Barton, what do you have for me?” Coulson asked.

“Snart has been located. He is due to meet with a mutual old friend of mine, an arms dealer name of Basil Flower in two days’ time. It seems he has a specialist weapon that Snart wants.” Clint reported. 

“Any information on the weapon.” 

“No Sir.” 

“And Mick Rory?”

“My contacts have confirmed that the two of them are working independently at the moment, but he has been seen in Keystone and that’s in easy flight distance for a dragon.”

Phil Coulson nodded. “Have control clear a Quinjet, I want to be at Central City as soon a possible.” 

0-0-0

46 hours later

Central City 

It was 3 o’clock in the morning and Clint found himself lying on the roof of a four-story run-down office block in the warehouse district of Central City. Looking down the scope of his sniper rifle he could see into the large open window of the warehouse below him. 

“Snarts just arrived Sir”, Clint told Coulson over the comm, after matching the ID photo from the CCPD file in his head with the man who had just entered the warehouse. Snart was older than him with close cut hair, lean build, wearing a black pea jacket, black skinny jeans, with a black turtleneck and combat boots. He moved with the grace of an apex predator. 

Clint asked. “Do you want me to take a hand if this starts to go pear shape, Control?” 

“Only step in if it looks like Snart is in trouble, otherwise let it ride.” Coulson instructed.

Clint found that the bugs he had planted earlier easily picked up the conversation. Basil offered Snart something called a heat gun, but Snart bypassed it, dismissing it with “I want to slow things down, not heat them up,” and continued to the next box and what Basil called a cold gun. Clint couldn’t help but shake his head, when Snart drawled “the guns are state of the art who else knows you took them?“ in the cold monotone precise tone that Clint was beginning to identify with the man. 

But Basil keen to make the sale ignored the warning signs and sealed his fate as he quickly confirmed that he was the only one who knew about the guns. It was then there was a very distinct whirling sound as something was charged up. 

“Control?” Clint said.

“Stand down Hawk, let it play out.” Coulson said.

Snart turned towards him “Just me then sorry pal,” and he aimed the cold gun at the arms dealer. Basil backed up trying to plead that he wouldn’t tell anyone, it was too late.

“Just chill out?” Snart said as he pulled the trigger, freezing him to death before he could run. Turning away from the body Snart was just about to leave when he paused then closing the briefcase containing the heat gun he took it with him without a backward glance. 

It was then Clint heard a heavy beating sound and rolled on his back just in time to see something large swooping out to the night sky. He just managed to roll out of the way as the creature’s talons carved deep scores into the roof where he had been laying then with a massive down beat of its wing gained height again and was gone. 

Clint’s heart was in his mouth. That had been too close, that had been one giant fucking flying lizard it had be Rory but the two men were no longer working together, so what the hell was happening? 

0-0-0

By morning the Central City police were all over the murder scene with no clue how a man could freeze solid in the middle of the summer.

Coulson was on a secure link with SHIELD as he was brought up to date.

Agent Ian Ramey, Black Hat 1, began his report. 

“We started from the logical point that since Stark Industries had no knowledge of them. It limited the number of viable labs, that could have created the weapon. And it goes without saying Sir, that SHIELD is too well embedded in some of the more covert organizations; for us not to hear about the weapon if it had been one of them. 

It was then we discovered STAR Labs. STAR Labs was destroyed in a particle accelerator explosion which resulted in massive loss of life and resulted in the creation of Meta Humans. 

STAR Labs according to all sources became a clearing house for scientific verification and ceased to function as a research facility. Then following the death 2 years later of Harrison Wells, the owner. The ownership of the Lab on paper was given to Dr Caitlin Snow, other requests were given to Cisco Ramon and Bartholomew Allen, here we are talking of considerable sums of money. 

We got into their system, using a triple back door trap, and here it got interesting Sir.” 

He paused. 

“And,” Coulson prompted.

“Sorry Sir. We discovered reports on a Cold and Heat gun which had been designed by Ramon as anti-speedster measures. Now according to their records it was in secure storage but we found evidence that the guns had been stolen and a cyber patch had been used to cover the crime. So unless they did a hands-on inventory they wouldn’t have missed them. 

Their computer expert is good but they got complacent and we got the information on their prize asset Sir, and we have confirmed his ID.” 

“Thank you, Agent Ramsey, have an information pack sent across to me. I want their system monitored can you remain undetected?” 

“Yes Sir.” 

“Good Job. Pass my thanks to your team.” 

Once he had closed the link Coulson was thoughtful. Central City was proving to be more interesting than he had thought. But first and foremost the heat gun would be a perfect present for a pyromaniac Fire Dragon, so it might indicate that Snart was looking to reconnect with his partner. But since he had his own powers why did he need the Cold gun to start with, and what was it for?


	6. The Kahndaq Diamond Heist

Central City Museum

Three days later

 

An attempt had been made on the Kahndaq Dynasty Dimond exhibition when it was in transit to Central City.  SHEILDS clandestine monitoring of STAR Labs systems showed that that the hero squad at STAR Labs had been using a link into the CCPD computers to run a check on Leonard Snart even hacking into sealed juvenile records, prison records and medical records. Which just confirmed what Coulson suspected, Snart had been behind the robbery. But there was no real evidence to link him to it otherwise the police would have been hunting for him.

 

Leonard Snart was keeping a low profile so, he ordered they cover every inch of the approach to the Museum for at least four blocks out.  Finally, it had resulted in a hit as Snart approached Central City Museum, and the newly arrived Kahndaq Dynasty Diamond exhibition.

 

Coulson smiled the man didn’t like to leave unfinished business.  And sure, enough here was Snart walking towards the museum.

 

Clint pulled up outside of the Museum, the picture from their security camera relayed through to Coulson’s tablet.

 

Over the feed one of the hackers said, “He’s just entering the Museum Sir.”

 

 On the screen Coulson could see Snart heading towards the museum shop. He was dressed in a long coat, the same black turtleneck, jeans and combat boots from before. As Coulson watched, he saw Snart speak briefly to the woman at the information counter, purchasing a ticket. 

 

A second smaller window opened by remote on the tablet as the hacker continued, “It looks like he’s going to take the tour.” The window showed a close up of the ticket being handed across with a clear time stamp of 3.15.

 

Handing the tablet to Clint, Coulson checked his comm. “I don’t think that he’s doing to try for the diamond now, it’s way too public. If the opportunity arrives I want to approach him.”

 

“Somehow I don’t think he’s going to go willingly Boss.” Coulson smiled showing a flash of fang.“ If he does he’s not the man I think he is,” reaching in his pocket he took out what looked like a thick pen.  “This is strong enough to drop him in his tracks.”

 

“Good hunting.”

 

In the car Clint watched his handler appear on the camera feed as he entered the museum.

 

Rather than join the tour Coulson browsed the Museum shop and looked at the nearest galleries, as Clint followed the progress of the tour, and kept him updated on Snarts movements.

 

Thirty minutes later Snart and the tour returned to the start point.  Clint continued to track him as he began a leisurely stroll round the museum walking through the glass walled galleries never pausing too long in front of any one exhibit.  After circling round almost aimlessly until 4.30 by which time he had made his way back to the front of the museum again and the café. He purchased an expensive designer coffee. Taking a seat he looked no different than any of the other visitors, as he leafed through a museum guide.  

 

Coulson arrived back at the café just after Snart taking a seat with a tea, he listened to Clint in his ear as the younger man kept up a humorous dialogue on the people as they entered and left the café as he enjoyed his own drink.

 

Suddenly all humor left his voice, as Snart ditched the rest of his coffee and went over to the counter again “he’s buying another ticket, looks like he’s going around again.”

 

Phil drained his tea and crossing to the information counter brought a ticket just as the tour started and he fell in step with them. He kept to the back of the tour group, making sure to always keep a group of people between him and Snart.  The guide was a rather matronly woman, a volunteer who enthusiastically began to tell the group about the local history of Central City and about Bovine McFeely and the role he played in its founding.

 

Bovine had been an idiot, Phil mused who got lucky. He remembered him all too well, now if they only knew the real reason that he got that name and it had nothing to do with cattle ranching. He allowed himself a ghost of a smile as he imaged their shocked faces. 

 

Finally they approached the diamond. It was being displayed in a pyramid display case and the guide joked about them about getting too close and setting off the alarm. Through the glass he could see Snart on the opposite side of the diamond, offering a kid some gum. For a split second their eyes met.

 

Coulson saw something in Snart’s eyes. It was recognition of what he was, not a vamp but some type of cop. Snart looked back down at the diamond and turned on his heels and followed the guide towards the next display. 

 

Phil allowed some of the other visitors to move in between them again, noting how Snart kept to the side of the group, the furthest away form him.  For all his attention appeared to be on the guide and the exhibits, Phil could see Snart checking him out, the slight subtle turning of the head.  Keeping back so not to crowd Snart was a calculated risk. He needed to be close enough for the man to get used to him on a   subconscious level, but not that close that he would be caging the man in, because that could trigger a violent fight or flight reflex that wouldn’t end well.

 

Just as Snart was leaving the tour, heading towards the exit, the local police got involved. A plain clothes officer shouted  at Snart to freeze.

 

“That’s all I ever do,” Snart yelled back as he took to his heels. 

 

 

The security doors began to drop down into lockdown mode but too late to stop Snart. Coulson  swore under his breath as he struggled through panicking members of the public. He barked into the comms  for Clint to take the lead on Snart as the thief escaped  the museum.

 

0-0-0

 

Flinging the tablet down onto the passenger’s seat, Clint was getting out of the car when Snart came flying down the steps of the museum, and into the street. The ice dragon vaulted onto the hood of a taxi, slide across it, dropping on to one knee, then back on his feet again in the middle of the road.

 

 Police cars headed towards him trying to cut him off but at that moment he pulled the cold gun from under his coat and fired a layer of ice over the road sending the cars spinning like tops.

 

The police were yelling at him to stop but Snart kept going joining the people on the sidewalk trying to lose himself in the crowds.  Suddenly seeing that he was about to be cut off he turned sharply to enter a theatre taking the steps two at a time.

 

Clint still on his heels suddenly heard Coulson ordering him to fall back and circle round the theatre. It was then he felt a rush of air buffeting him as Coulson ran past him as his handler tapped into his vampire speed.  He was just turning away from the front door when he was suddenly almost thrown off his feet by another violent displacement of air, Clint managed to grab the rails, just keeping his balance, but other people were not so lucky and ended up falling down the steps and landing sprawled on the sidewalk.

 

0-0-0

Inside the Theatre

 

 

Phil arrived in the foyer in time to see Snart heading towards the auditorium people scattering out of the way when they saw the gun in his hand.  Just then the newly minted vigilante the Streak arrived on the scene almost on his heels and that upped the stakes, as Snart turned his attention to trying to nail him. 

 

Each time the Streak tried to get to him Snart turned his attention to the civilians, forcing The Streak to break off his attack to move them out of the way and allowing Snart to get a few hits in with the cold gun. When he did it proved what he had said in the warehouse, about needing the cold gun to slow things down, each time the Streak staggered and slowed, interesting?

 

It was then he saw the police officer from the Museum, the one that had started the whole fiasco when he had yelled at Snart.

 

“Idiot” Phil snarled. Any fool would know that Snart was not going to steal the diamond then and the best course of action was to trail the man and set a trap. But the idiot had to try and take him in.

 

Phil lunged forward at vampire super speed and managed to knock the police officer’s gun to one side, so that the bullet that would have hit Snart in the chest clipped his shoulder.  Snart staggered but the person that paid the price wasn’t the cop, it was an usher who tried to play the hero and stop the wounded criminal Snart iced him without breaking stride as he escaped into the auditorium and through the fire escape.

 

Not bothering to stop Phil crashed through the rear fire doors of the theatre in pursuit as Clint over the comm warned him that the police where surrounding the area. He was in time to see Snart rounding the corner, just as a dark shadow eclipsed the light and looking up he saw a massive body a long neck and thick leathery wings fly over him.

 

Suddenly Clint’s commentary about the police was cut off in a torrent of obscenity as a roar drowned out all the background noise then came screams.

 

“Barton,”

 

“Still here Boss. You’re not going to believe this, a fucking giant ….”

 

“Dragon,” Phil added.

 

“Yeah Boss it has to be Rory again. Are we sure these guys aren’t working together?”

 

“Barton get the car, I want the CCTV footage up by the time I get back to you.”

 

0-0-0

 

Once back at the car Clint contracted control and was just downloading the footage when Coulson slide into the driver’s seat of the car.

 

“No sound on this, but you need to see this.”

 

Snart came around the side of the theatre, the way he was running betrayed the fact he was hurt, the cold gun was still in his good hand, something made him turn. He started to lift the cold gun up and then he was snatched up in the air by large talons, and a blast of fire ploughed the area burning anything that got in its way.

 

“Mick Rory.”

 

Clint nodded “That’s what I thought, but I would give you good odds that Snart didn’t know he was there.  You know Boss, I think that Rory is doing what we are, stalking Leonard Snart, because by the look on his face he didn’t know what the hell was happening.”

 

 

Phil was thoughtful, “It would make our job easier if they were together again. Now Snart is good, very good, an excellent prospect for SHIELD” he mused. “I am sure that Snart will return for the diamond sometime soon and this time he’ll bring more fire power with him.”

 

“Heat and Ice.” 

 

Phil nodded, “Him and Rory together. But you know what Barton, it was interesting to see how the cold gun allowed him to stand up to the Streak. That guns an equalizer.”

 

“I think he calls himself the Flash now,” Clint couldn’t help chuckling, and then added quickly, “sorry Boss it just makes him sound like a pervert with a raincoat.” But Clint’s grin got broader as Phil allowed himself to enjoy the moment.

 

As he added, “I suppose it’s better than sounding like an idiot who runs naked across football pitches.”

 

“Flash or Streak, Clint,” he gave a small smile at the names and allowed himself the luxury of using Barton’s first name. “I do think that SHIELD R&D will be interested in the fact that the cold had such a slowing down effect on him, and I do think that if Snart goes after the diamond then such determination should be rewarded.”

 

0-0-0

Over the outskirts of Central City 

 

In full Dragon form Mick Rory flew with large beats of his wings powering him through the air. He was pissed off at his partner. The stubborn ice dragon didn’t know what was good for him, so he had decided to come back to Central City. But before he could make contact he began to hear the word on the grapevine that someone was looking for Len and it was a big bad someone.

 

Now just because he was pyro, some people seemed to think that meant that he didn’t have a brain. They didn’t look past the packs of matches. But he wasn’t stupid accelerants didn’t mix themselves but when you had someone like Len around who was a brilliant planner with an eerie sense of time, it paid to let him plan.

 

It had been hard to track his partner down without Len getting wind of him being back in Central City. But a mixture of old favors and threats had done the job and he had heard about Len’s interest in some special weapons. He had planned to land on the warehouse roof, transform, then use the fire escape to get down to ground level and confront him once he had conducted his business. Only as he had been gliding in had he seen the sniper on the roof opposite. A few hard beats of his wings and he had gained height and then  spiraled down sharply attacking the man  only just missing the bastard with his claws.

 

That near miss with the sniper had worried him. He had pressed his sources and there were no outstanding contracts on Len. So who was the sniper? Who did he work for?  Knowing his partner he knew that Len would go for the diamond again so he had started to steak out the Museum, and it had paid off.

 

Only not the way he had planned.

 

Which was why he was now flying towards the outskirts of Central City with Len in his talons. At least his partner had the sense to stop struggling once he got over the shock of being scooped up from the alleyway.  Mick had to keep focused as the lizard part of his brain screamed that his mate was hurt. He could smell the metallic scent of Snart’s blood,  and it was driving him to  burn the city down as punishment for hurting him. But the human side of him was concentrating on landing as quickly as possible and getting Len to a doctor.

 

From the air he spotted his car and began to spiral down. At the last moment he  flared out and allowed Len to roll from his talons just before he landed. He heard a cry of pain, immediately changed to his human form, his clothes forming round him as he rushed back to his partner. Only to throw up his hands as he saw the strange gun in his partners hand pointed straight at his head. It was then he heard the whirling as the gun charged.

 

 

 “Hi Boss.” Mick gave him a grin watching Len carefully as he closed the distance between them keeping his hands clear of his sides.  

 

“Sorry about that but I had to get you out of there fast.”  Mick gave a mental sign of relief as he saw the gun lowered, powered  down and holstered. There was a long pause and then Len reached a hand out. He closed the distance between them, and got Len to his feet, supporting him as he swayed. He didn’t kid himself he knew they would talk, but the important thing now was to get Len to a doctor. Then to a safe house to rest up. Now he had him back he would keep him close and protected.

 

0-0-0

Central City 

 

Over a meal in the hotel room Clint listened as Phil outlined his plans for Snart and Rory. He wasn’t going to curb their heists. Since Snart’s six-month pattern was perfect for allowing the two men to work on SHIELD sanctioned jobs. Now came the hard part of recruiting them.  Phil finished up, “so all we have to do is locate them agai which I think will be the museum again ideally we need to get a man on their crew,” he looked thoughtfully at Clint.

 

“I always wanted to rob a museum.”

 

“I thought you had Stockholm 19….”

 

He didn’t get to finish as Clint laughed, “that one doesn’t count boss, I was only 12, it was before I found my calling.”

 

It was the perfect way to finish the day. Clint left the table and took off his jacket and climbed onto the bed tugging the pillows up to support his back and head as he sat against the headboard. He watched Phil remove his jacket and laid it and his tie over the back of a chair. The vampire paused at the side of the bed; his eyes showing the first flickering of his true self, Clint patted the bed.

 

“You don’t have to do this Agent Barton, there is no hurry I can……”

 

“Phil were off the clock. You need to feed now, logistics have screwed up the supplies, so either you’re going to have to go without or you can take what I am offering you. “

 

“You…”

 

“I know, damn it Phil,” Clint exhaled slowly, and then more gently continued, “I know Phil, I know, you need to drink from me only once a month, but I am offering, please.”

 

Clint had learned early on that Phil didn’t like to take his blood from the throat when he fed, too many dark memories, but from the wrist or the inner elbow was okay.

 

Carefully Clint got on his knees and wrapped his arm round him, pulling the vampire against him, positioning him in the comfortable place they had found months ago. Clint caressed  the back of Phil’s head and neck and gave a harsh inhale as the sharp fangs penetrated his flesh.

 

Once this mission was over Clint was going to ask Director Fury for a little field trip. That was the thing he liked about the Dark Side of SHIELD, they allowed field trips. His usually were freelance wet work, just like Phil got to exercise his vampire side on some wet jobs they did too, it helped burn off the twitches. The itch under the skin that could only be eradicated by being true to yourself. Truth be told he was convinced that they both needed some down time after this one; Maybe they could bring their two new assets with them.


	7. A deal is done

The next morning 

 

 

Clint discussed the case with Coulson over breakfast. They needed to locate Snart as quickly as possible. Although sure that he had been only slightly wounded they couldn’t risk it if he needed medical attention.

 

Clint had met a lot of people in his time as a mercenary, and one of them was a Brit called Trev Dobbs. The man had worked with Snart before and was more than happy to sit down and tell him what he was getting himself into.

 

But then Dobbs had looked worried leaning forward, looking round as if frightened that Snart would appear on his shoulder. “Just tell me Clint that you’re not employed by one of the families that want to put Snart down. Because if you are ….” He left the threat hanging in the air.

 

“Nothing like that, I need just money and fast.”

 

Dobbs seemed to chew it over, “Okay go to Saints and Sinners and ask for Snart. Leave a contact number and then wait.” He paused you better be playing me straight, old friend, because if you’re lying it’s not just your head that is going to roll.”

 

Twenty-four hours later his burner phone rang. The voice on the other end he recognized from the warehouse, the cold monotone drawl, pure Central City. It gave a place, a time, and the phone went dead.

 

Looking across at this handler he confirmed, “Contact had been made, Sir.”

 

0-0-0

 

The crew that Snart was putting together was new. Only Rory and Dobbs had worked with him before. He noticed that Dobbs was scuffing the floor with his foot. Snart looked up from the blue print that he was explaining, “Do you have a problem?”

 

Dobbs shook his head, “I just wanted to know where I was standing.”

 

That had got a smirk from Snart as the other men exchanged a puzzled look between themselves at the words. If it had a private meaning only the three of them knew what he meant, Snart, Dobbs and himself. Dobbs had told him about the job robbing the diamond in transit one of the crew had lost his head when the Streak, no  the Flash had attacked and shot a guard.

 

Back at the warehouse Snart had been looking at security footage of the attack. His attention fixed on the footage from a nearby security camera.

 

Mitchell had challenged Snart demanding his money. Snart had just picked up his gun shot him dead his eyes never seeming to leave the laptop he was watching. It was then that Dobbs had found that he was stood on a large sheet of plastic, all the easier to dispose of the body, at that point he had readily agreed with what every Snart said.

 

Snart was as cold as the gun he now carried but as the plans unfolded Clint was impressed. The man was good, very good but also dangerous. It radiated off him just as it did Rory.

 

 As the other crew members left after the briefing, he was called back. As he turned to Snart he found himself looking down the barrel of an automatic, “Now why are you here werewolf?” the smile was icy.

 

“You think that will stop me Snart?” Clint allowed himself to partly change to his hybrid form. Snart might be a human hybrid dragon but his reactions although faster than a normal human, lagged that of a werewolf.  Behind him he heard a gruff, deep throated growl, He turned his head and saw Mick Rory, the man was in his own partly transformed state, His throat and jaw was glowing a deep red and smoke was swirling from the corner of his mouth, his fingers sported large talons as he cradled the heat gun in his hands.

 

“Mick Rory.” Clint acknowledged the man and then added “I heard you have broken up the old team, what this? an Old friend’s reunion?”

 

“Issues happen,” Snart drawled, “They get resolved.” he nodded towards the heat gun. “Mick remembered where he saw you.” Snart paused “A certain roof top.”

 

Clint swore under his breath as he slowly raised his hands.

 

0-0-0

.

Tarot card Queen of Swords,  Lisa Snart  – Has experienced many pains, losses and hardships from her experiences had a unique way of seeing the world. Fiercely intelligent she can see straight to the heart of any problem or situation. She doesn’t suffer fools gladly.  

 

Four hours after the deadline.

 

Peggy Fleming Ice Skate Ring - Central City

 

Lisa Snart skated to the side of the rink with a wave to the children as they finished their lession. It was then she saw the man coming down the steps towards her,  the way he dressed screamed, a Fed or a family enforcer.

 

She quickly and smoothly removed her skates. Slipping on her boots she straightened up with the skates in one hand ready to use them as a weapon if she needed too.

 

He sat down in a seat a couple of rows above her.

 

 “What do you want mister?”

 

 

The man was dangerous she knew that, he wore it like a second skin, just like Len and Mick did, She could see the gun calluses on his hand, family or fed she wondered which one.

 

The man nodded at the skates “No need to do that, Miss Snart. I just want to pass a message to your brother. I would like to meet him at 3.25 pm tonight at    Saints and Sinners.”

 

“He doesn’t do family work.” Lisa put in.

 

The man smiled “Good job that doesn’t apply to me then Miss Snart.  Your brother has someone that I want back and I have a job that he might find interesting.”

 

“You’re a Fed,”

 

“No Miss Snart, I’m SHEILD, and the job offer still stands.” 

 

0-0-0

 

Saints and Sinners

 

Rory had arrived first and then Snart had escorted Clint into the bar seating him at the counter with a gun trained on him.

 

Mick Rory came back from checking out the premises, “All clear Boss.” 

 

At that moment the door opened, and Coulson walked into the bar the door closing behind him. He watched as Mick took his place near Clint, Snart went forward to talk to his handler.

 

Mick told Clint gruffly, “Keep your hands on the bar. This goes off okay, you get to walk away mutt, this goes south, and that vamp of yours makes a move on Len, and I’ll pull the trigger, silver bullets every one of them,” he warned. The grin Rory gave him had way too many teeth to be natural, he tapped his nose. “I could smell you and the vamp at the museum, you think you were the only one there playing back up?”

 

Clint mused, hell if they survived the recruitment he could really get to like these guys.

 

0-0-0

 

Phil made his way over to sit by Leonard Snart at the bar and nodded his head, “Mr. Snart”

 

“Vampire,”

“Let’s get down to business.”                                     

 

Snart waved him to a bar stool, “so, what do you want apart? Apart from him .” He nodded in the Clint’s direction.

 

“It’s very simple Mr. Snart, I want you and Mr. Rory to work for me.”

 

“Now why would we want to work for you, Mr. Agent of SHIELD?”

 

“Because of the Flash and his hero squad I can offer you immunity from prison? Along with other benefits, Phil said.

 

“For me and my life partner” Snart snorted “ What are you , a fucking insurance salesman? Plus were villains not heroes.” He drawled.

 

Phil ignored the remark, “Mr. Snart I am not asking you both to be heroes, just Agents that I can call on when needed.”

 

Snart looked amused “So, what are your terms?”

 

Phil noticed the Central City drawl had deepened.

 

“The terms are simple. You continue doing what you do. And I won’t stop you unless it comes in conflict with SHIELD interests. In return for our immunity you do the jobs that I send you. There are a lot of supernatural and meta humans in Central City, the police….”

 

“The pigs. Do we have to work with them?”  Phil could hear the contempt and hatred in Snart’s voice and knowing his history he couldn’t blame him.

 

“You don’t have to work with them in the usual course of a mission. But if you do I will be your handler and deal with them when needed.”

 

“Lisa is covered by the immunity as well.” Snart put in, then added “Plus we have the right to turn down a job.”

 

“No more than two in a row with no questions asked. But anymore and you have to explain why you don’t want to do it, and it is  valid you won’t be censored for it. ” He gave a flash of fangs as he added “I am not a monster you know.”

 

 Phil placed his hand on the table and slide across a black card across to him. “This is your first mission, along with a payment. I hope will be satisfactory.”

 

“And you don’t want a high body count.”

 

Phil favored him with a smile, and Snart matched it.  “Mr. Snart we are SHIELD we are not the FBI or the police just get the job done.”

 

He put his hand out, for a moment it just hung in the air, and then Snart shook it.

 

The deal was done.


	8. Agents of the Darkside

Central City

 

Six months later

 

The final day of the Ruby exhibition, Leonard Snart, code name Captain Cold was in the museum, and admiring the rubies on display. They had arrived from South Africa 28 days ago as part of an international tour. Mentally counting down the time they had before police response Snart was pleased to see that his heist was going as planned.

 

“3 minutes 34 seconds to exit,” Snart said in his signature monotone drawl.

 

Over the comms he could hear his crew calling in confirming as they cleared the different halls of the museum.

 

Suddenly he heard a warning cry and felt a blast of air, turning the cold gun in his hand he saw the Flash. At least the kid now had a decent name, instead of sounding like a pervert. He fired the cold gun and saw the kid stagger and drop to one knee as the cold field brought the Flash down.

 

“Stay down Kid, and chill out.” Snart warned.

 

Suddenly the Flash snarled and launched himself upwards managing to duck out of the way of the stream of ice that Snart fired at him.

 

The kid didn’t pull his punches, the impact hit Snart at chest level, throwing him, no pushing him backward at such speed his feet left the ground, then suddenly the support was gone. The momentum sent him flying backward and he hit something hard, he went crashing to the floor as  pain exploded through his body and then there was blissfully nothing.

 

0-0-0

 

Mary Wilson was exhausted, she had just finished her stint in ER and was pleased to be home, her hot bath and warm bed was calling her name. She kicked off her shoes and picked up her mail as she came through her front door and then came to a halt. Her fingers closed on the letters crushing them.

 

Stood in her front room was Mick Rory, the infamous Heatwave and laid on her couch was his partner Captain Cold.

 

Immediately all thoughts of her own comfort were gone as she rushed to his side. She had made a few mistakes in her life and one of them had resulted in her coming under the scrutiny of SHIELD. In return for getting her life back she had agreed to work as an emergency medic for their agents.

 

She had been introduced to the two men now in her home six months ago when she was assigned to them. This was the first time she had had to treat them and she could feel her heart pounding away in her chest.

 

Snart she knew had issues many of them, one of which was medical staff. Another was being touched. Not a good combination for her. So she kept her movements slow and made sure she telegraphed them well in advance.

 

 “Agent Snart, you have to let me check you.”

 

There was a long pause and she met his gaze steadily, slowly he nodded.

 

“Now I don’t want you to move Agent Snart, let me do all of the work.”

 

She checked his shoulder. It had been dislocated, then he coughed and she saw him curl in on himself in agony. Quickly she used her hands to support him until the spasm had finished, his face was grey with pain.

 

“Broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder, Agent Snart. Now let me check your face.”

 

His jaw was heavily bruised and a cut above his eye had bled heavily.

 

 “Agent Rory, get my bag it’s in that cupboard over there.” As he did that she pulled the cell phone from her pocket her fingers flying over the keys “Control, This is Wilson 9878 November Charlie Echo, I have a man down, broken ribs, dislocated shoulder.”

 

“Wilson,” Mick said.

 

She took the bag, passing him the phone, “They said ETA 12 minters, keep them on the phone and  let me know if they tell you any different.”  She told him even as she set about stabilizing Snart’s condition. It was then he started coughing again and she saw the flecks of blood on his lips, things had just got a lot more serious.

SHIELD Facility

 

Phil Coulson took a seat in the cafeteria at SHIELD and opened the container that was on his lunch tray. He gave a sigh of pleasure, ahh AB negative and at blood temperature, who said that SHIELD didn’t look after their vampires. He ignored the looks that some of the other agents were giving him. Senior handler and Agent of the now named Dark Force, he knew the fear that he generated in SHIELD.

 

Clint sprawled in the seat next to him, his plate was bulging with a large stake that was bloody with only the smallest sear on it to make it acceptable. He started to eat with relish, it wasn’t that often that they got a chance to share a meal together and Phil was going to make sure he made the most of it.

 

It was then his cell phone rang. Phil pulled it out read the text, answered it and reached for his drink again.

 

 

 “Sir.” Clint had straightened up in his chair.

 

“It appears your partners in crime need some assistance.”

 

Clint grinned broadly rubbing his palms togther “yeah, road trip, boss.” On the way out he snagged a cupcake off the plate of one of the Junior Agents, giving her a wink as he caught up with his handler munching away happily as he fell in step with him.

 

0-0-0

 

Two weeks later

 

Team Flash Head Quarter – Central City

 

Entering the Cortex the heart of Team Flash’s headquarters, Detective Joe West was shocked to find a man stood leafing through the pages of one of the folders.

 

“Freeze right there mister.” Joe ordered bringing his service  weapon up at the same time waving Barry, Cisco and Caitlin to stay behind him.

 

The man looked up from the folder, his expression one of utter boredom then  continued slowly turning the pages of one of the mission folders, as if he had every right to be there.

 

“You heard me, mister, hands up and turn towards me slowly.” Joe repeated.

 

 Joe has a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach about this stranger, he dressed like a FED, but there was more to him that just that and the last thing Barry needed to do was show the man his speed.

 

Finally, the man closed the folder and turned his attention to Barry, Joe and Team flash. “Barry Allen, CSI investigator and the Flash that is quite a resume, Mr. Allen.” 

 

“Your mistaken Mister….” Barry started to say when the man locked eyes with him and his voice dropped away.

 

As the man continued talking as if Barry hadn’t spoken, “You have been on our radar for some time Flash. You as well Dr Snow, Mr. Ramon and of course the late Harrison Wells.

 

It has made interesting reading. You are one of many inhuman, or what do you call them Meta humans in this city. Since you have decided to make yourself the savior of Central City we decided to let you continue unchallenged. You have been working hard but you have also made mistakes.” He paused “The pipeline for example, illegally imprisoning people, trying to illegally take them out of the country to the Arrow’s island prison, they have an ugly name for that Mr. Allen human trafficking.”

 

 

“Who the hell are you?” Joe said angrily, how dare this stranger bring that matter up. They had been unable to see any other options to a very tricky problem.   Snart had betrayed them and released the prisoners so he found it easier to blame the criminal than admit what they are doing was wrong.

 

“Senior Agent Phil Coulson, SHIELD” the man said as he reached slowly into his pocket and  with his thumb and forefinger produced his ID wallet. 

 

“Damn” Joe muttered and lowered his gun. This had gone from bad to a real clusterfuck.

 

“SHIELD,” it was Cisco who jumped in. “I’ve heard of you, your wow, you’re like the men in black.” He was grinning broadly “It’s not often you get to meet an urban legend.”

 

The man Coulson ignored him, his gaze fixed on Joe and Barry. The next second Barry moved to break the stalemate picking up on Joe’s fear, only to find himself pinned to the floor with a knee in his back and a Glock pressed to the back of his head. “Dumb move kid,” Coulson said as he added “To think you’re the only one with game.”

 

“Get off him.” Joe yelled, bringing his gun up again.

 

“I wouldn’t try that if I was you cop, its bad manners to point.”  The voice behind Joe sound amused and when Joe turned his head slightly he was looking down the shaft of an arrow pointed straight at his head, The man holding it gave him a smile that sent icy shivers through his body.

 

Coulson did the introductions, “This is Agent Barton. Lower you gun Detective West and we will keep this civil.  Now, Mr. Allen, I am going to let you up, I hope that you have leaned an important lession.” He pressed the gun a little harder. “You may be the Flash, but there are others of us who can move just as fast when we wanted.”

 

 

Coulson straightened up and stepped back just as Barry started to move. The younger man looked up at Coulson and gave a muffled cry and started to crab walk backwards to get away from him.

 

“Barry, what’s wrong?”

 

It was then Coulson looked at him and Joe saw the man’s lips twist into a mocking smile, and he saw the fangs. It was as if a bucket of water had been thrown over him chilling him to the bone, a vampire, Coulson was a fucking vampire. He twitched, and the barb of the arrow pressed into the back of his neck.

 

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t do anything stupid, Detective.” Barton said his voice sounding disappointed.

 

“You’re a vampire.” Joe snarled at him in shock.

 

“So, Detective West, do you have problem with that?” Coulson said holding his gaze levelly, until the detective looked away.

 

“I thought not. I was quite happy to let you play your little games in Central City, just like the Arrow in Starling City. But when you nearly killed one of my assets because you lost your temper Allen, that is something that I won’t allow.”

 

Barry cut in “The Arrow isn’t controlled by anyone, he….”

 

“Queen and SHIELD have reached an agreement. They  have drawn a line in the sand and the day he steps over it, is the day that Hawk kills him.” He looked almost fondly at the other archer.

 

“You think he can take the Arrow?”  Barry said.

 

“The Hawk never misses; ask Queen. Now  Mr. Allen, where was I.  Yes of course, my assets, and your murder attempt on them.”

 

“Barry...” Joe looked at the young man he thought of as a son, “I don’t understand what he means.” Then to Coulson he said, “Barry has never tried to murder anyone.”

 

Coulson ignored West, “Allen, did your little support group tell you it was okay?  That my asset had it coming to him?  What didn’t you like the fact that a so-called human could give you a run around because if you did, that was very cold and calculating” Coulson said.

 

Barton gave a laugh at that then, “Sorry boss, liked the pun” as Coulson nailed him with a look.

 

There was a ghost of a smile on Coulson’s face that disappeared as rapidly as it had arrived, but it might have been nearer to a true emotion than the other ones he showed them, which Joe had a feeling were just mimicking normal human interaction.

 

“My asset was lucky to survive the encounter with you. His partner also sustained injuries in rescuing him when you continued your attack even though he was down.” He paused and looked past Team Flash to the doorway, “Ah…Agent Snart, Agent Rory, I see you have decided to join us.” 

 

Barry turned fast to see Captain Cold stood there with Heatwave, the latter was cradling his heat gun and seemed to be standing protectively a step in front of him. Cold looked pale and there was signs of pain etched on his face.

 

“You have to be joking, Snart’s a psychopath. He’s a killer and Rory’s a pyro…” Barry didn’t get a chance to finish.

 

 

“My assets,” there was a warmth in Coulson’s voice that had been lacking before, except for that on instance when he had chilled Barton about the pun comment.

 

It was Caitlin Snow of all people who broke the tension, the doctor in her winning out over any feelings of bitterness over her kidnapping.

 

“You better sit down Snart. You looked ready to drop.” She pushed the office chair to him and watched as he sank down onto it and got a nod of thanks from him in return. She was surprised when she also got a curt “thanks doll” off Heatwave.

 

As Coulson started to read the riot act to Team Flash she bent down over Snart talking softly to him.  She started checking his pulse she frowned as Len began to cough curling in on himself from the pain, his whole body shaking. Moving quickly, she supported him as another waive of coughs wracked him encouraging him to breath through the pain.

 

Caitlin was furious.  There was no way he should have been there, he was still recovering, well at least he could rest in medical.

 

She pushed an unopened bottle of mineral water in to Rory’s hand giving a curt order “open that,” while she used her hands to help ease the pain as Snart coughed again.

 

Once he had drunk the water, and the pain had eased up, she had Rory helping him to medical so that he could stretch out on the bed. With her back turned to the two men, she didn’t see the look that passed between them, and one word “ours.”

 

0-0-0

 

SHIELD facility

 

48 hours later

 

Once he had fed, Mick had changed into his dragon form. Len sat leaning back against his side, Mick’s serpentine neck with its horse like head was resting on Len’s leg, his tail was curled round the other side. Mick had opened his scales to allow the warmth to seep out so that Len was kept just warm enough. As an ice dragon he could accidently ice people when he was badly injured or put himself in an icy hibernation if he hit absolute zero.

 

Smoke puffed out of Mick’s nostrils as he breathed, his eyes looked closed, but his senses were on alert. The moment that Phil Coulson came close his eyes opened and he made a huffing noise of welcome.

 

Their handler clicked back at him and knelt to check on Len. Mick trilled back, gruffly.

 

Snart woke and Mick huffed his displeasure, his partner should be resting. Len’s voice showed some of his exhaustion as he said, “There was no need for you to come out Coulson, I had this in hand.”

 

“Sure, you did Lenny,” Clint put in with a grin. As a werewolf, Clint enjoyed tugging the tails of the dragon contingent when he could. His light heartiness a result of getting Len back safe and sound. When he saw the look Coulson gave him he gave a quick “Sorry boss,”

 

“I have made a deal with Team Flash.” Coulson said levelly. Ever since day one of their recruitment he had knocked heads with Len. It was part and parcel when a King of Swords the very personification of structure, order, logic and control was paired with a Tower whose only purpose was to disrupt and destroy that control and order. But against the odds they had established a working relationship.  

 

Snart swore, under his breath, “What deal, Coulson?”  He didn’t like that he had been too ill to be present for the negations.

 

“You don’t kill any innocents on your heists, and the Flash moves you down the list of importance. He’ll try to stop you, but will leave you for the police”

 

“And he believes that we will keep to those rules.” Snart asked.

 

“Barry Allen and his team are white hats Snart. They have no idea what is out there and if they truly did they would run screaming in the night, So yes he believes that.” Coulson answered.

 

Snart’s laugh was almost painful to hear as he started to run through all the things he planned to do to bait the Flash on forthcoming heists.

 

Mick just curled him a little closer contented to hear his mate talking and ready to enjoy the mayhem he was planning. 

The End


End file.
